


Revelation (One True Thing)

by AuroraNova



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 12:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18010655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: Cardassians structure everything in hierarchies, including loyalty. Julian finds out where he stands in Garak's.





	1. The Taste of Tea

**Author's Note:**

> An idea which insisted on preempting "Bittersweet Symphonies."
> 
> Takes place in a universe where Julian and Ezri were never romantically interested in each other, roughly ten months after “What You Leave Behind.”

Julian waited in the lobby of Garak’s building, as he did every week barring emergency. Now that Garak was a governmental figure he lived in a complex where Federation relief personnel were not allowed to wander around freely. He therefore had to come fetch Julian for their weekly literature discussion.

Their meetings had been moved to the morning meal, as neither of them could reliably assume the luxury of time away for lunch or dinner. Garak devoted long hours to the provisional government. Julian was busy in his clinic, often working well into the evening treating waterborne illnesses and performing surgeries when rubble collapsed onto people. It was grueling, heart-wrenching work, but he knew he was making an enormous difference.

It wasn’t as though a large number of doctors had volunteered to help Cardassia. Nor was there a lack of Federation worlds needing help, so he could understand the shortage. When Starfleet Medical offered a year of leave to anyone who wished to help Cardassia, it was a public relations move and a diplomatic one, never intended to raise a contingent of any size. Julian had immediately signed up regardless, because he knew few others would. There were a dozen other Federation medical volunteers in Cardassia City with him, but none from Starfleet.

The man who was probably responsible for Julian’s assignment to the capital but would never admit it made his appearance. “Good morning, Doctor.”

“Hello, Garak.”

The security guards didn’t frown at his overly familiar address anymore. Apparently they’d finally accepted Garak wasn’t bothered.

“Is that unpleasant virus is under control now?” Garak asked as they took the lift up to his apartment.

“Yes, finally.” Julian wasn’t sure he’d ever get the smell of vomit out of his shoes, but that was best not dwelled upon. “With the water purification stations now covering the district’s entire supply, I expect to see a significant reduction in patients.”

“This is excellent news.”

“You already knew.”

“Ah, but there’s no replacement for firsthand accounts.”

“You mean you’re afraid the Cardassian doctors will tell you what they think you want to hear.”

Garak paused just long enough to signify Julian’s assessment was correct. “As I said, firsthand accounts are valuable. The reports I receive are from medical administrators, not doctors. Please, have a seat.”

Julian sat at Garak’s table, placed near the window to look out over the River Leska. This particular section of the city was in good shape, though on Cardassia ‘good shape’ was very much relative these days. It hadn’t even been a year since the Dominion bombardment, and many more years would pass before Cardassia truly recovered. Still, the worst was over, and Julian was pleased to have helped save lives during the darkest months.

“The usual, Doctor?”

“Please.” Garak’s replicator didn’t produce offworld dishes, and it had taken a few tries to find a Cardassian breakfast Julian liked. The closest thing to a scone sat in his stomach like a rock, and the less said about pickled regova eggs drowning in fish juice reduction, the better. He’d eventually settled on a fruit-filled porridge which was more agreeable to the human digestive system and his palette.

“I’ve found a new pattern for red leaf tea,” said Garak. “It comes closer to capturing the subtleties of the real thing.”

Julian took a sip. “It tastes just like it did last week.”

“I’m afraid humans aren’t known for possessing the galaxy’s most sensitive taste organs.”

He was right. Cardassians might have had relatively weak hearing, but their sense of taste was extremely well-developed. This was a race with twelve major categories of taste, after all.

“I’m only sorry you can’t appreciate the faint earthy undertones,” Garak said.

“I’m doing well if I can appreciate the midtones.”

Garak gave a slight nod of acknowledgement before sipping his own tea and asking, “Did you have a chance to read _The Offering of Mazu Ka’Not_?”

“Yes, barely. We’ve only just beaten that virus.”

“It’s why I selected a novella.”

What Cardassians considered a novella was still a full-length novel by human standards, but that was neither here nor there.

“I decided to be optimistic and pick a novel for next week. It’s called _And Quiet Flows the Don_ , and I’ve been meaning to read it for ages,” Julian said. It was also supposed to feature the old Russian fatalism Garak wouldn’t admit to appreciating. He’d let that be a surprise.

When packing for Cardassia he’d brought a few extra padds and some books, knowing entertainment would be scarce. Being able to debate them with Garak was a nice bonus, and their breakfasts gave him something he could look forward to in the midst of all the devastation.

Garak accepted the padd before turning his attention to his meal. “I grow concerned when you aren’t optimistic, as it means a situation is very bleak indeed.”

“We have reasons for hope now, and considering how _Offering_ was less grim than your usual fare…”

“Grim? Doctor, I object to your categorization.”

“Of course you do. But I was going to tell you what I thought of _Offering_. It was a fascinating insight into how the Cardassian inclination for hierarchy can be and is applied to everything.”

Garak smiled. “I knew you would find that to be of interest.”

“It seems restrictive.”

“On the contrary, we prefer to know where we stand in any given situation. That’s simply common sense and allows one to act accordingly. Just because your species embraces chaos in all things doesn’t mean the rest of us find it enjoyable.”

“A lack of strictly delineated relationships doesn’t equal chaos.”

“It does from where I’m sitting, and surely you’ve realized by now how deeply we Cardassians abhor disorder.”

He had. Coming up on three-quarters of a year on Cardassia had taught Julian many aspects of the culture, and if there was a person in the city who didn’t love order, he’d yet to so much as hear of them. “Ka’Not was more an archetype than a fully developed character, considering how the book focused on his love of order and hierarchy rather than anything else. He had every last aspect of his life ranked.”

“He was a methodical man, which is to be commended.”

“Even his children, which is really a bit much.”

“And his loyalties,” said Garak. This had to be significant somehow, as Julian had fully expected a defense of rating one’s children from most to least favored, and therefore came armed with several thoughtful arguments on the damage this could do.

Thrown, he asked the first question which came to mind. “Has there ever been a Cardassian book where the protagonist wasn’t overarchingly loyal to the state?”

“Hmm, yes, but not in many generations.”

“How come you’ve never given me one?”

“I don’t care for them.”

“Well, I want to read one of these soon. Now, Ka’Not was rather sparing with his personal loyalty, but I think the point was when he gave it, he held nothing back unless the individual in question was outranked by someone else in his hierarchy. Or Cardassia.”

“That is not entirely wrong, Doctor, but he was not sparing. He was, in fact, too generous with his personal loyalty, and it contributed to his downfall.”

“Too generous?” He wondered if this was Garak just trying to wind him up. The point soon ceased to have priority, however. Another concern quickly predominated as he became aware of a growing numbness taking over his mind and body. And Garak – Garak was expectant.

There was no new replicator pattern. Any difference in the tea was due to another cause entirely.

“You drugged me,” Julian said, the accusatory tone lost to his slurring speech.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“The hierarchy of loyalty.”

“Kill me… for Cardassia?” The words came out slowly, with great struggle, and he couldn’t move his limbs at all. Not that it would’ve mattered. Garak was nothing if not thorough, so Julian had no illusions he’d make it out of the room, never mind the building.

At least this was a quick and painless way to go.

“Kill you? My dear doctor, you misunderstand. I’m doing this to save you.” He gave Julian a look which seemed genuinely fond, though Julian couldn’t trust it. “We will not see each other again, I’m sorry to say, but you needn’t worry. This is not your end.”

Julian could feel unconsciousness fast approaching, leaving him no time to speak. To damn Garak for drugging him, to thank him on the off chance this was actually going to save his life, to ask what the hell was going on. “Garak…”

“You’ve been a very good friend, Doctor.”

The last thing Julian saw was Garak meeting his eyes without regret.


	2. Special Delivery

Ezri checked her messages again at lunch. Still nothing from Julian.

She was starting to fear the worst.

Six days earlier, there’d been a coup on Cardassia. ‘Isolationist’ didn’t even begin to describe the new policy. All Federation aid workers had been expelled, the civilians alive and unharmed, the less numerous members of Starfleet in body bags. Once they were aboard the _Clara Barton_ , the aid ship was escorted out of Cardassian space under heavy guard.

This, apparently, was considered mercy by Cardassian standards.

Everyone was accounted for except Julian. Of the relief team in Cardassia City, he was the only one in Starfleet. The others reported he’d gone missing three days before the coup, supposedly called to a medical crisis on another continent. “He went to have breakfast with his Cardassian friend and never came back. We were told he was attending to someone on another relief team, since he was only doctor on the planet with experience treating joined Trill.”

There weren’t any joined Trill on Cardassia. Ezri had checked the rosters three times.

What had Garak done?

Years ago, people told Julian nothing good could come of associating with Garak. He hadn’t listened, and all things considered Ezri didn’t blame him. Knowing what she did now, she understood how much Julian valued the intellectual challenge Garak provided, and the growth of their friendship was therefore no surprise.

She only hoped it hadn’t cost him his life.

No message from Julian, but one from the mail room. She had a package, and it was oversized, so would she please come get it at her earliest convenience?

Ezri hadn’t ordered anything, much less an oversize package. Curious, she headed to the mail room to investigate. If nothing else, she could use a distraction.

“Ah, Lieutenant Dax, thank you for coming so promptly,” said a crewman she didn’t know. “In the future, if you’re expecting such a large package, would you be so kind as to let us know ahead of time?”

“I didn’t order anything.”

The crewman frowned. “Well, it’s definitely for you. Came in on that Bintari freighter this morning.”

Bintari? They were the most dependable freight crews in this sector, and correspondingly the most expensive. Ezri’s curiosity grew, and she followed the crewman over to a nondescript gray box nearly three meters long and half as wide. There was a simple electronic label on it which read _Lieutenant Ezri Dax, Station Counselor, Federation Outpost Deep Space Nine_ in Standard, and presumably the scattered dots below it said the same in Bintari.

She opened the latch and lifted the covers to reveal an obviously Cardassian box inside.

“Oh shit,” muttered the crewman. “Should I call security?”

There was a piece of paper with Ezri’s name on it secured to the inner container. She read it and smiled. “I don’t think so.” Then she pressed seven characters on the touch pad.

“Are you sure that was a good idea?”

“As sure as possible with Cardassians.”

“Forgive me if I’m not reassured,” he muttered, moving away.

Ezri watched and waited, desperately hoping to be right. She ignored the two security personnel who came to stand guard, and since they seemed to think she was crazy, they didn’t say anything to her either. Huh. It’d been a while since anyone thought she was crazy.

Five long minutes later, the top of the unit swung open to reveal Julian coming out of stasis. She injected him with the hypospray which had been attached to the outside of the stasis unit and within seconds his eyes opened.

“Ezri?”

“Welcome back, Julian.”

He sat up and looked around. “I’m on DS9?”

“Yes.”

“What’s happened on Cardassia?”

He never did like to waste time. Not even out of the stasis unit and already trying to figure out what happened. “An isolationist coup.”

“The other relief workers?”

“The civilians were expelled.”

Julian’s shoulders slumped. “The Starfleet personnel were killed, weren’t they?”

Ezri nodded and handed him the note.

_Lieutenant Dax,_

_Please find below the sequence which will release Dr. Bashir from stasis. The attached hypospray will expedite his return to consciousness._

_I thank you for your assistance in seeing him safely returned to the station. Let me also take this opportunity to note that I believe you are worthy of the name Dax._

_Garak_

She’d never told anyone all horrible things Garak said to her in his anger, and it seemed like his way of authenticating the message. She’d taken a leap of faith to trust him, because it all made sense. Julian was unaccounted for, and if there was anyone Garak would go out on a limb for like this, it was Julian.

Ezri was getting better at trusting her instincts.

Julian swallowed hard and returned the note. “I thought he was poisoning me.”

“Technically, I think he did. Let’s get you to the infirmary so Dr. Girani can check you out.”

He climbed out of the stasis unit on unsteady legs. The security personnel had disappeared, but as Ezri and Julian made their slow way to the door, the mail room crewman asked, “Uh, Lieutenant? What should we do with the crate and stasis unit?”

“I’ll get back to you on that. Oh!” She hit her combadge. “Dax to Kira.”

“Go ahead.”

“Julian’s here, safe.”

“What? How?”

“Garak sent him in stasis. We’re going to the infirmary.”

“I’ll meet you there. Kira out.”

“Hierarchy of loyalty,” said Julian. “He picked that book in advance to send a message. Of course he did.”

Ezri had no idea what he was talking about. It was hard enough to keep up with Julian when he really got going; following as he worked out Garak’s labyrinthine lines of thought was a lost cause. “What?”

“His first loyalty is to Cardassia. Therefore, he couldn’t alert me to the coup, because he knew I’d report back to Starfleet immediately. But he didn’t want me to die if it could be helped. He gave me a personal loyalty, Ezri. Do you know how much that means?”

“Not really.”

She thought saving a friend’s life was the kind of thing which should be expected as a matter of course, and honestly, she was angry that Garak let twenty-seven other members of Starfleet be killed when all they’d wanted was to help his people.

Maybe she’d grown too complacent about Garak being on their side. Maybe Julian hadn’t.

Whatever else Garak had let happen (helped happen? made happen?), Julian was alive, and at the moment, Ezri was content to enjoy the relief of having her friend safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue to follow, just as soon as I figure out if this is a 'kill your darlings' moment or not.


	3. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was indeed a kill your darlings moment. *sigh* ([Explanation](https://slate.com/culture/2013/10/kill-your-darlings-writing-advice-what-writer-really-said-to-murder-your-babies.html) for those who don't know what I mean.)

Having been declared healthy by Girani and requested Ezri give him time alone with his thoughts, Julian flopped on the couch and tried to make sense of what he’d learned. The Bintari freighter had picked him up on Cardassia Prime just as news of the coup was being broadcast across the planet. An anonymous sender, of course. The captain wasted no time leaving Cardassia at top speed when she found out about the coup.

Garak had evidently kept him in stasis for three days before sending him off described as a shipment of rare orchids.

He had so many questions for which he’d never receive answers and was going to think himself into circles for days at the least, trying to make sense of this. At the top of the list was Garak’s role in the coup, but that was by no means the only item of interest. Garak had mentioned Ka’Not gave personal loyalty too freely and it contributed to his downfall; did that mean he was taking a risk to save Julian? What, exactly, had Julian done to merit this? One thing he’d learned early on with Garak was not to apply human standards. Just because he’d once saved Garak’s life wouldn’t necessarily mean the man felt any obligation to reciprocate.

Julian had always hated unanswerable questions.  

Garak probably would’ve said any explanation on which Julian settled would become true if he believed it to be so, which was not at all satisfying.

He wasn’t looking forward to writing this report, either. “I’m alive when all other Starfleet personnel were killed because Garak likes me” was going to raise a lot of eyebrows. He expected orders for a debriefing to come through within the hour. Starfleet Intelligence would no doubt want to sit in, which sounded easier than explaining to his superiors at Starfleet Medical why he, alone out of the twenty-eight people loaned to Cardassia, was not dead.

Survivor’s guilt, his brain noted. To be expected.

There was one inarguable fact in all of this: Julian would be dead if Garak hadn’t cared enough to save him. That was his touchstone, he decided. He was alive because he meant something to Garak.

“I always knew there was goodness in you, my friend,” he murmured, and imagined Garak smiling indulgently in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to read the darling I had to kill, I posted it [here](https://aurora-nova-fic.tumblr.com/post/184619858420/deleted-scene-revelation-one-true-thing).


End file.
